


dark and stormy

by Anonymous



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angry Sex, Angst, Bad Prepping/Lubing Like In My Yaoi Mangas, Blood, Dark, Dark Character, Dubious Consent, Evil Assholes, Hate Sex, Implied Consent, JESUS CHRISTIES HERE WE GO:, Light Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Painful Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Prison Sex, Rough Sex, Sadomasochism, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Violent Sex, inevitable "we're not so different you and i" collision, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 19:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19302757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: If Darkwarrior killed Negaduck, he'd kill that last bit of hope that Gosalyn would still love and forgive him.





	dark and stormy

**Author's Note:**

> throwing this out into the anonymous void because while i'm a-okay with darkfic, and while i intended for this fic to come off as consenting just fucked up, since i don't like writing noncon, i'm... unsure. because of that i just decided, fuck it, i'll post it but i'm gonna do so anonymously. again while i insist this is all consensual, it is still dubious at best given the imbalance of powers and whatnot etc. people may easily figure out who i am but i'd ask if you do please respect my privacy, thank you.
> 
> takes place after the end of "life, the negaverse, and everything".

It'd been nearly half a year since Negaduck landed in this absolute shithole. Which was quite disappointing, since his initial impression had been nothing but positive.

The door to this universe, after all, was exactly Negaduck's aesthetic: thick black steel, decorated with spikes, its handle fashioned to appear like a grenade. There was a strange insignia on the door that looked like his own version of the Thunderquack. Surely, this was a universe tailored after his desires, or another entrance to the Negaverse he'd yet discovered. And since that asshole Darkwing Duck decided to do the "heroic" thing and abandon him to spiral aimlessly through this dimensional purgatory, Negaduck didn't really have a choice but to take the offer.

Negaduck had been shot out of a trash can, into the empty street. After collecting his bearings and screwing his head back on right, Negaduck took in his new surroundings. 

This was definitely a St. Canard, but it was not his, nor was it his arch-nemesis's. For one, there was a giant, semi-opaque dome surrounding the city. Everything looked so tidy and perfect, but in a sterile way that reminded Negaduck of a child getting scolded if they didn't properly sort their clothes in each correct dresser drawer.

Also, there were drones and robots everywhere. They came in a variety of sizes, but they all looked the same: the Thunderquack, but entirely black with red optics. This St. Canard felt stilted, stiff, and suffocating. Under someone's absolute control with an iron fist. Negaduck ran the Negaverse similarly, but at least there were ruined buildings and trash all over the streets to give it some sort of personality. The dome probably kept people in just as it kept people out. And the drones could only belong to Big Brother.

One drone lowered itself in front of Negaduck, scanning him. "Curfew violator found in sector 18, unauthorized to civilians," the drone said in a robotic yet snide voice.

Negaduck blinked, fascinated but also annoyed. "Curfew? Do I look like a kid to you? Outta my way, you bucket of bolts," he snorted, smacking the robot aside. Before he could walk off, the drone suddenly equipped a pair of cannons, its eyes flashing like sirens, the shrill wailing following.

"Citizen has been charged for assaulting drone #561. Citizen has been classified as hostile and uncooperative," the robot said.

Negaduck snarled. "Hostile?" he laughed, rolling up his sleeves. "You ain't seen _nothin'_ yet."

"Perpetrator will be given two seconds to surrender willingly or be taken in by force," the drone replied, fixing its cannons on Negaduck.

"Oooh, I'm _reeeeaaal_ scared." Negaduck comically trembled and whimpered.

"Two second warning was issued. Perpetrator has failed to surrender willingly." The barrels of the cannons started to glow, heating up with a low whir.

Negaduck was beginning to think maybe threatening and provoking the robot while he was unarmed was... kind of a bad idea.

"Perpetrator will--one moment," the drone said, the cannons lowering. "Processing new charge."

Negaduck blinked. He grinned, brushing off his jacket. "Figures," he snorted, "don't have a cheap toy do a duck's j--"

Taser probes shot out from the robot's open bill, hooking onto Negaduck and electrocuting him. Negaduck seized and cried, writhing as electricity was pumped through his veins. Only when he started smoking did the currents stop, the probes recoiling. Negaduck spit and babbled, not really hearing what he was saying; the last thing he saw before he blacked out was large metal pincers reaching for him.

/////

It'd been almost three weeks since Negaduck arrived in this peculiar universe, arrested in no less than five minutes and thrown into prison. 

Not just any prison--maximum security, run by barbaric guards and officers who found any excuse to use force and beat the prisoners. It was encouraged, actually; instead of issuing warning shots, the officers struck and tormented the residents, each black eye, bruise, and wound counting as a notch on their daily quota. By the end of the year, whoever had the highest amount of broken bones and smashed faces was given a handsome bonus.

And, really, Negaduck could admire this system. It was terrible, inhumane, cruel, vicious--it was absolutely delightful and fun. Negaduck practically gave the officers openings to attack him. If only so he could put most of them in the prison's hospital instead. The punishment for assaulting a CO meant a week of isolation outside in a metal box in the hot sun, or in a tiny cell underground where it was cold and dank, with little to no food or water. It was probably why most of the prisoners kept their heads down and hands to themselves. 

Negaduck actually found these stays in the torture traps relaxing. It was like being on vacation, all alone and away from the wimps and losers he shared the hole with. And, boy, were there a lot of weaklings in this place. Barely anyone in the joint had a murder rap, and he'd only come across one other prisoner who considered himself a supervillain. To Negaduck, it was like a kitten insisting they were a big, scary tiger.

No, most of the prisoners were doing hard time for crimes that didn't warrant this sort of punishment. A couple years in a more lax security prison; Hell, over fifty percent would have just been given community service, a smudge on their records, and a few months' probation. Negaduck's cellmate was in for shoplifting, but insisted it was only to help his family survive during these "dark times".

Speaking of Negaduck's cellmate: there was no punishment for prisoner on prisoner violence. If the COs weren't willingly ignoring the fights, they were joining in. The people here deserved Hell, and if their fellow damned inmates wanted to help them suffer for their crimes, they were more than welcomed to do so.

Negaduck wouldn't have it any other way, really, except there'd be no prison. There weren't many in the Negaverse, because people were usually offed the moment they offended Negaduck or those he'd chosen they answer to while in his absence. Besides, it was too staunch and too orderly. Any chaos was carefully controlled, and if you wanted to start a riot, the COs would never step in to stop you, because then they could break out the big guns and heavy duty gear and really go to town. In fact, wounding a prisoner during a riot counted as two points instead of the usual one.

It wasn't fun if the "good guys" benefited from Negaduck's mayhem. What a waste.

But worst of all had to be the explanation for why this universe existed in the first place. The reason St. Canard had become alienated from the outside world and forced into this dystopian nightmare. 

Darkwing Duck had apparently snapped for some reason, changed his name to Darkwarrior Duck; the boot-licking fanboy of the law actually grew a spine and started dishing out real punishments. No longer merciful, it got to the point where he was so brutish, so harsh in how he apprehended and handled suspects and criminals, Dipwing had actually run seventy percent of the supervillains out of town.

If he hadn't executed them. 

Now that was an even bigger surprise. Darkwing Duck, actually killing people. Maiming and torturing was one thing, but now "Darkwarrior" was treading into Negaduck's territory. Eventually it got so bad, Darkwarrior's controlling behavior and super-ego drove him to overthrow St. Canard's government and take over as their malevolent leader. 

Although Darkwarrior insisted everything he did was for the greater good and to protect the people, aforementioned wussies were absolutely terrified of him. They didn't see him as a vigilante or hero anymore--he was a madman and a monster. And if they wanted to survive, they would do as they were told and become subservient slaves to the sadistic system. 

Worst yet, Darkwarrior had built the impenetrable dome over St. Canard. Either outside forces had tried, failed, and given up saving the people or were completely apathetic to the city's suffering, this miserable place was forgotten and left to deal with its problems on its own.

Again, all wonderful things. Really. Negaduck couldn't be more impressed. Even at the thought of Darkwing Duck turning into a much more interesting and worthy opponent to Negaduck. The only thing was how _tediously dull_ this system was; Negaduck was all ready to break out after his first week in prison. Even if he didn't succeed, at least it shook things up in a way the officers and guards wouldn't expect. Apparently no one had tried escaping this iron fortress in years. After Negaduck's first attempt, the officers spent the next day celebrating the huge amount of points they'd earned catching him.

Negaduck wanted to bang his head against the wall until the steel caved and gave him an exit out. This world was just begging to be torn apart, because there was nothing more satisfying than snipping the string of something so intensely wound up, and watching it snap into total destruction. Imploding because it hadn't prepared itself to deal with unnatural and tumultuous disorder, and all Negaduck had to do was give that little initial push.

Three going on four weeks now in this boring prison, Negaduck sat in the mess hall. It was as silent as a morgue, everyone with their heads down, eating the same gray mush at a timely manner. Negaduck was the only one not eating, too busy thinking up a way he could kill the new officer with his plastic spoon.

Then Negaduck was struck upside the head with a club. He whipped around, snarling yet secretly excited because he was itching for a fight. Unfortunately, the two officers quickly immobilized him before he could finally get his jollies off. Negaduck would have taken these turkeys out if they didn't wear so many layers of armor. The other prisoners were too afraid to even look up and watch; if they did, they'd be reprimanded and deprived of food for three days.

Negaduck got a few punches and kicks in, at least, before he was strapped down on an erect gurney. They bound him tightly in straps and chains, tying up his bill so he couldn't talk (or spit) and pulling a mask over his head so he couldn't hear or see. There wasn't any room for Negaduck to move, let alone struggle, and without a word the officers pushed the restrained criminal out of the cafeteria as if nothing had happened. The prisoners had already forgotten anyway.

Negaduck could feel the warmth of the sun on his feathers. Even with the mask, he could hear the sound of van doors slamming shut. He was being transported somewhere. Perhaps a _super_ super maximum security prison? He couldn't deny the thrilling pitter-patter of his heart at the thought.

Almost an hour later, the van stopped and Negaduck was unloaded. Eighteen minutes after that, and suddenly the mask was yanked off his head. He blinked, immediately looking around him.

Negaduck was being pushed down a long, dark corridor. On both sides of the room were what appeared to be prison cells with thick plexiglass walls. All of them were empty; no beds, no sinks, but there were holes, most likely used as toilets. He counted twelve rooms. As he passed the tenth cell, he saw the entrance was open; two janitors dressed head to toe in black were scrubbing and washing off copious amounts of blood from the floor, the walls, even the ceiling.

See, now, Negaduck would have kept the blood. Again, it was about character, of which this world had none.

When they reached the end of the corridor, two metal doors (with that symbol Negaduck had seen on the portal's door, which he knew now was Darkwarrior's insignia) parted. When Negaduck looked up, a figure in a black and purple, spike-studded outfit approached him.

Negaduck would smile if his mouth wasn't bound. 

After weeks rotting away in this tyrannical and bleak universe, Negaduck met Darkwarrior Duck for the first time. This was the beginning of one long, insane, and disturbing dance.

/////

It'd never been Darkwarrior's intention, of course. That was one of the big no-no crimes here. So Negaduck decided to take lead. It'd been interesting, working his way under all that armor and bulletproof self-loathing. But over time, an understanding came between captor and captive. When it did, Negaduck became the follower, although the dance moved mostly by his steps and directions.

Negaduck was bored and amused, as much a masochist as a sadist. Darkwarrior was angry and oh so mysterious with awful coping mechanisms that really... spoke for themselves.

Hand in hand, hip to hip, chaotic order and chaotic disorder twirled side by side on a floor made of fragile glass.

The deal had been made, the contract sealed.

/////

Six months going on seven since Negaduck had been transferred to Darkwarrior Duck's cozy private prison block. He was the only one there, however, and he spent twenty-three hours a day in his snug black straitjacket. Negaduck had gotten used to it--wouldn't be the first time, after all. Hell, he'd worn straitjackets for fun in the past, usually when engaging in... private activities.

Negaduck had learned there was a heavy fine for gossiping. And depending on the nature of the scuttlebutt, some offenders had their tongues cut out. But there were always going to be holes in any system. The guards on duty must have thought they were untouchable to freely gossip and chat while on duty in Darkwarrior's prison.

It was then Negaduck learned a few things that had turned this universe upside down, into the prison within a prison of today. Darkwing Duck had fallen apart and completely lost his mind when his daughter disappeared. Or was killed. That part was hazy. Negaduck had laughed--what, that red-headed little shit with the big mouth? _That's_ what tipped over the first domino?

Darkwing Duck should have known better. When you get attached to someone, all sentimental and close, when they eventually die or leave you, you fall apart. They were such stupid bleeding hearts, their own worst enemies all too happy to hemorrhage themselves empty and dry.

The officers immediately went silent and stood firmly back in place as the front doors opened. Darkwarrior walked inside, head held high, back straight, an imposing but perfect posture. Two of his minions were dragging a sobbing man in chains behind him. Negaduck instantly recognized the poor bastard--Phineas Sharp. That crazy vulture hadn't skipped town yet?

"Fresh meat," Negaduck jeered, waddling up to the front cell wall, "fresh meat, fresh me--" Negaduck gagged, vocal cords hit with a jolt of electricity from his shock collar.

Darkwarrior ignored Negaduck as he and his guards took Phineas into his office. Negaduck coughed, sticking out his tongue. "Bah, no sense of humor," he snorted and sat back in his corner.

Negaduck couldn't hear anything despite his cell being next to Darkwarrior's office. Typically soundproofed, of course. He'd seen a number of people come and go, and most of them were not there of their own accord. Those who came willingly clearly did not want to be there, either.

Darkwarrior, Phineas, the guards, and a medium sized drone reappeared twenty minutes later. Negaduck watched as the vulture was thrown into one of the empty cells. Darkwarrior spoke short and curtly with his minions; they bowed and stepped back. The drone produced a number of miniature arms, each holding some sort of sharp and deadly looking device or weapon. Darkwarrior stepped into the cell, removing the sparking baton from his belt, robot servant following. The guards closed the door behind him and observed their leader in silence.

Negaduck heard a blood curdling scream. Then another and another, followed by an assortment of painful, horrible noises and sounds, from both Phineas and the instruments at play. One even sounded close to the snarling hum of a chainsaw. Oh, Negaduck did miss his best friend. His eyes lit up when blood suddenly splattered across the transparent wall. His heart raced when he swore he saw something chunky and fleshy sluggishly slide down the wall next.

The guards watched on, unfazed and unmoving. One had to be detached and dead inside to survive here, especially working so close with Darkwarrior.

Negaduck sighed, flopping onto his back on the tiled floor. He closed his eyes, relaxing to the sounds of Phineas being brutally tortured. Those screams, those cries, all those pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. Drilling, slashing, whirring, buzzing, slicing. Negaduck hadn't heard any music since he arrived in this St. Canard, and now it was like he'd been given VIP seating to a symphony orchestra performing just for him.

Negaduck cackled, kicking his legs and rolling on the floor gleefully. A guard struck his cell with their baton, ordered him to shut up, but Negaduck just ignored them and kept laughing. Even harder now that he'd pissed one of Darkwarrior's underlings off.

God, it sounded like _home_.

Would they dance tonight? It'd be so much fun to have a little music going when they did, for once.

After some time, Negaduck having lost count while enjoying the concert, Darkwarrior reemerged from the cell. He was soaked in blood. He spoke to the guards, pointed inside, then headed back to his office. 

Negaduck hurriedly leapt onto his feet, running to the front of his cell as Darkwarrior marched by. He kicked the wall, getting Darkwarrior's attention; with a smile full of fangs, Negaduck dragged his tongue slowly up the length of the wall, over Darkwarrior's form, leaving behind streaks of saliva.

Darkwarrior narrowed his red eyes. Negaduck was shocked by the collar again, and his straitjacket compressed tighter and tighter until he swore his ribs would crack. Darkwarrior went into his office, and the straitjacket loosened again, the collar deactivating.

Negaduck guffawed, wheezing and coughing in between.

/////

The janitors returned and went to meticulously cleaning the cell. Phineas had been removed on a stretcher. Or what was left of him, considering the black sheet thrown over whatever was being wheeled out.

Negaduck strained his head, tried to get a better look. Maybe something would fall out from under the sheet. An arm, a piece of brain. It was when all the guards on the floor left that Negaduck knew what came next, grin splitting his beak.

A tango? Or a waltz?

As expected, Darkwarrior was at his cell, all cleaned up.

"What? That wasn't enough for you?" Negaduck smirked, lounging against the wall. "I understand. It wouldn't be enough for me, either."

The front wall opened, and Darkwarrior silently stepped inside. It shut behind him, the clear surface dimming to black.

"For someone who wants his pets to watch him torture prisoners," Negaduck scoffed, "you sure like to keep things nice and private when it comes to our little sessions."

"It's unseemly and lewd," Darkwarrior spat. "Private matters should remain behind closed doors. I prefer to keep things tidy and clean that way."

"Oh, Dipwing, you haven't been clean in _years_."

Negaduck gagged as Darkwarrior suddenly wrapped a fist around his throat, lifting him off the floor. His grip was tight, threatening to crush the shock collar. Negaduck choked, but that smile never left his face. He stared down at Darkwarrior, smug and superior, as if this bloodthirsty lunatic was a bug under his foot.

Swing dancing would work just fine.

Darkwarrior threw Negaduck against the cell wall. Negaduck grunted, head smacking hard against it; he fell onto his side. God, he'd been waiting for this, now more than ever since Darkwarrior put on that tease of a show for him.

Darkwarrior grabbed a fistful of Negaduck's head feathers, dragging him up into a sitting position. Negaduck bit his bottom bill, pupils dilated, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. Then Darkwarrior took the familiar silver object from his belt. A few inches long, cylindrical in shape.

Darkwarrior yanked Negaduck's bottom half up, unbuckled the strap digging between his legs. Negaduck took a deep breath as the cylinder was inserted dry inside his ass; no lube, no foreplay, just searing pain and tearing.

Darkwarrior let Negaduck go, observing quietly with his blank red eyes. Negaduck whimpered as the cylinder spread open in sections, forcibly stretching his ass slick with blood; it released lubricant little by little like falling sand in an hourglass. He panted wetly; scraping his feet against the tile. 

The pain was almost unbearable; the toy was too rough, the build up of lube too slow, cut flesh stinging--and Negaduck moaned happily, half-lidded eyes lolling back, shedding tears. He laughed breathlessly, hips raised, ass and tail wagging. Properly presenting himself to Darkwarrior, allowing him a better view of the device spreading him open.

Negaduck looked back between his legs, blood mixed with lube dripping on the ground. "U-Uh o... oh," he stammered, "makin' a m-m-mess." He gasped, toy stabbing into a fresh cut. "G-gonna... havta... p-punish me."

Negaduck had expected the spikes to come a little later, but after his lewd comment, tiny needles lining belts inside the straitjacket stabbed into his arms. Piercing and shredding in tandem with the toy in his ass. Negaduck shuddered, crying quietly. Any movement caused the needles to dig in deeper. So he continued writhing and rocking, practically humping the air in desperation.

Darkwarrior kicked Negaduck onto his back, driving the iron tip of his boot into the bottom of Negaduck's beak. He looked down; as expected, Negaduck's erection was visible in his plumage, wetting the feathers in precum.

Negaduck panted, cheeks hot and red. "W-Well?" he rasped. "I s-show you mine. You s-show your... yours." He received another shock for that.

Darkwarrior nonetheless complied. He zipped open his fly, his own cock hard in his gloved hand. However, he had the honor of coating it with lube. What a selfish asshole--it was great. Negaduck whined and twisted as the device was yanked free. It'd done its job just enough for Darkwarrior to get on his knees, take Negaduck's hips, and drive himself into his prisoner's ass.

Negaduck threw his head back, keening. It hurt and stung, but in so many wonderful ways. Darkwarrior filled him to the hilt; muscles clenched down on him, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, it's what he wanted. He immediately started thrusting, prying Negaduck further apart. The extra lube felt cool on his overheated flesh, but nowhere near enough to subdue the pain.

"S-Shit," Negaduck croaked, weakly closing his legs around Darkwarrior. He looked down, watched the way Darkwarrior's cock mercilessly pumped in and out of him. His own dick bobbing against his belly, leaving wet streaks in his straitjacket. "Nnn--t-that..." he whimpered, licking his bill, "s-s'all ya g-got?" Negaduck smirked, even as his face twisted up. "Pa... Pathet--"

Darkwarrior took Negaduck by the throat again, strangling him. Negaduck blanched. The masked mallard's grip tightened as he picked up speed, driving his fury and hunger home with each sharp thrust inside. 

Negaduck wheezed, eyes watering. His vision was doubled, dizzy from lack of oxygen. Drool dribbled from the corners of his gaping beak, his eyes slowly rolling back into his head. But just before he could pass out, Darkwarrior let him go; Negaduck took a great, heavy gulp of air, coughing.

Darkwarrior rolled his prisoner up, nearly bending him in half as he fucked him. It certainly wasn't comfortable; Negaduck would prefer outright pain to mild discomfort, honestly. One could torture by doing these little things, but Negaduck only worked in extremes. He blinked, vision slowly settling again; Darkwarrior was staring him right in the eyes, his own narrowed and angry, teeth bared and clenched together. He dug his gloved fingers into Negaduck's legs; any harder and he would surely break something.

Negaduck stared defiantly back, face flushed and smiling.

Then Darkwarrior looked away. 

Negaduck glowered, offended. "Y-You c-coward!" he snapped, wiggling, "a-always such--such-- _look at me_!"

Darkwarrior closed his eyes, holding himself inside Negaduck as he came. Negaduck winced, grinding his teeth. Darkwarrior milked his orgasm with a few twitches of his hips before pulling out, cum dribbling from Negaduck's ass.

Darkwarrior dropped Negaduck carelessly onto the ground, standing and recomposing himself. As usual, he'd wash up in his office, and in an hour or so, the janitors would come to clean up the mess in the cell, Negaduck hissing and struggling as his own neglected, throbbing erection was left unattended.

Negaduck stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Darkwarrior tucked his flaccid cock away, stepped over his prisoner to leave.

"Y-Yanno... Pity y-you didn't just... take her w-when you were playing i-in my sandbox."

Darkwarrior stopped.

Negaduck chortled. "Gosalyn was g-good for hostage situations. W-Wonderful d-decoy, too," he said. "Other than--than that... useless. Annoying. _Nauseating_." His glazed eyes looked back at Darkwarrior. "Wouldn't even needa-needa ask me if y-you could have her. She w-was something... I didn't c-care enough about to p-part with."

Darkwarrior said nothing, but remained frozen in place, in time.

Negaduck tsked, lightly shook his head. "What--what a waste. Now s-she's with those dingbats. My g-guys'll beat 'em into strawberry slush s-soon. Then she'll have... no one. ... Well." He chuckled maliciously. "Unless t-they put her out of her mis--"

Darkwarrior grabbed Negaduck by the front of his straitjacket, picked him off the ground. Negaduck grinned, heart racing with anticipation. A hidden blade protracted from Darkwarrior's sleeve, and just before Negaduck thought it'd be driven into his heart, it easily sliced his jacket open with one swift stroke. With a few tugs on the straps, the straitjacket fell to the ground.

Negaduck hung there, naked and waiting impatiently. Darkwarrior let him go as he punched him in the gut, knocking his prisoner across the room and into the wall. Negaduck gasped, looking up; Darkwarrior was on him again, kneeing him in the ribs and flipping him over his head. 

Negaduck growled, scrambling onto his feet before taking a hit to the back. He pounced on Darkwarrior, pinning him to the ground and punching him in the face. Darkwarrior knocked him off with an undercut to the beak. 

Negaduck jumped back, arms crossed in front of him, shielding himself from the blows. He ripped off the shock collar and dove again, fist flying for Darkwarrior's chest. Darkwarrior grabbed his hand, bent it back awkwardly until bone snapped, and threw Negaduck down.

"Finally," Negaduck croaked, swaying onto hands and knees, " _fina_ \--" Darkwarrior thrust his steel boot up into Negaduck's stomach, cracking a rib. Before his prisoner could collapse, the masked mallard took the back of his head in hand, dragged him to the nearest wall; lifted him up and repeatedly bashed his face against the surface.

Negaduck pushed himself off and back, elbowing Darkwarrior in the throat. He moved away, putting space between them. Negaduck spit out a pointy tooth and a mouthful of blood, bill cracked and left eye swollen. His good hand pressed against his aching rib, the other hanging uselessly at his side.

Darkwarrior ran at him again. Negaduck managed to headbutt him just once. It did nothing, and Negaduck could only fall to his knees, too weak and exhausted to fight. Darkwarrior didn't care, of course; he held Negaduck's head into place as he thrust his knee over and over into his torso. Tossed him aside when he got bored of that; stomped on Negaduck's broken wrist until it shattered.

Darkwarrior stopped a few minutes later, heaving and shaking. He stepped back from the bleeding mess on the ground. Despite everything, Negaduck kept smiling.

"What good... am..." Negaduck whispered, a dry whistle in his throat, "... here. Better there... Excuse to think... yer right." He narrowed his good eye. "She'd a-approve then."

Darkwarrior kicked him across the face.

Negaduck hacked, fingers slipping in the puddles of blood on the floor. "... A-Again," he wheezed.

Darkwarrior growled. "Do _what_?"

Negaduck moaned. "Making me... b-beg..." he huffed, weakly turning onto his back. "When know... yer hard." He spread his battered legs. "Fuck me."

Darkwarrior kneaded his heel into Negaduck's foot. "Improper manners and etiquette shown to superiors are punishable by ten public lashings," he sneered. "Twenty if it's me you're disrespecting with your vile, filthy tongue, as well as a life sentence in max."

Negaduck wished he could roll his eyes. "F-Fuck me... _please_."

Darkwarrior snorted. "The charges remain the same," he said. But Negaduck was right, his cock tenting the front of his pants. 

"New look does... wonders," Negaduck teased, "lots m-more stamina you got--" Darkwarrior picked the gasping duck up by the head feathers, securing him to the wall. Darkwarrior yanked up Negaduck's tail, his cock easily sliding back inside his ass.

Negaduck whimpered, utterly in pain and utterly loving it. His wrist hurt, his chest was sore, his entire body a wreck, but he was still hard, grinding his dick against the cool, black cell wall. Darkwarrior clamped his teeth down on Negaduck's shoulder, biting and digging his teeth into meat. Negaduck keened, and it was just enough to finally tip him over. He came, spilling on the walls, letting seed run down his quivering thighs.

Darkwarrior continued chewing on his shoulder like a starved dog with a meaty bone. Thrusting viciously with hard snaps of his hips inside his prisoner. Negaduck whimpered, resting against the wall, eyes closed and panting.

Darkwarrior let Negaduck's shoulder go, spitting out feathers. He removed himself, whipped Negaduck around so they were face to face. He might have smiled at the agonized expression on his prisoner's face when he sheathed himself back inside his ass. He needed to hold Negaduck up, he was too weak to stand. Negaduck bounced on his cock, in his hands, legs limply and slowly wrapping around him.

This time, Darkwarrior didn't break eye contact.

Negaduck grinned brightly, as if he'd finally finished one giant puzzle. He touched Darkwarrior's face with shaky, bloodied fingers. Darkwarrior winced, paused a moment; Negaduck grabbed the back of his head, yanked it forward until their beaks practically mashed together. Negaduck shivered at the surprised look in the "hero"'s eyes.

So long as someone as awful and twisted as Negaduck existed, so long as something so wrong and so wicked was around, Darkwarrior had reason to continue this pitiful, empty existence of his. If people like Negaduck flourished even under these harsh conditions, then his order, his totalitarian leadership was necessary, all his work vital for a safe and stable environment. If Gosalyn was still here, surely she'd understand; she'd see why he needed to go to such extremes. Despite all he'd done for this city, demons like Negaduck managed to slip through the cracks.

Negaduck chuckled, running his tongue along Darkwarrior's bill, tasting his own blood. Negaduck was a pale and terrible replacement for Gosalyn. A very ill fitting, square-shaped filling in a round-shaped hole. It was twisted and demented and sad--everything Negaduck wanted his nemesis to feel.

If Darkwarrior killed him, he'd kill that last bit of hope that Gosalyn would still love and forgive him.

"Now's n-not the time, Dipwing," Negaduck purred, lapping at the moist spot on Darkwarrior's mask just beneath his eye. "Here an' n-now... I'm right h-here."

Negaduck was. He was here, and Gosalyn wasn't.

What a fucked up world. Darkwarrior would set it right.

Negaduck gasped, tightening his legs around Darkwarrior as the masked mallard came inside him again. When he opened his eyes, he saw a glimpse of Darkwarrior's fist before it slammed into his face.

/////

Negaduck opened his eyes, vision blurry. He blinked a few times, soon registering the ceiling above him was not the same as his cell. Negaduck moaned and shook; he reached to touch his side, surprised to find he was wearing clothes. And definitely not the straitjacket.

Negaduck felt like he was in the middle of an awful hang-over. He was sore, but not in any real, serious pain. It took him a few minutes to finally sit up, and when he did, he saw his reflection in the puddle of oil slicked rain water beside him.

While still a bit battered, most of his wounds had been treated, eye no longer bruised and swollen. He was wearing his usual turtleneck and jacket, as well as mask and cape. He stared at his reflection as he slid a hand beneath his clothes, feeling the bandages around his torso. His broken rib didn't hurt anymore. His busted hand was in a wrist splint, still healing.

How long had he been out? Given how much he'd healed, it had to have been weeks. Negaduck tried to think back--the last thing he remembered was Darkwarrior fucking him into his cell wall. After that there were fuzzy, incoherent shards of moments where he'd been conscious only for a few seconds before going back under.

Negaduck sat back, tips of his fingers brushing cold metal. Slowly he looked over--a gun. And next to that, a chainsaw. Negaduck's eyes widened; he tucked the gun away, reaching carefully for the chainsaw and using it to get up. His head spun for a moment; he stopped, breathed, regaining balance.

Negaduck glanced around--he was in a desolate underground parking lot. Outside it was raining, thunder rumbling loudly. Negaduck spotted his hat; put that on, too. Almost complete again, and that's when he realized what was happening.

This was still Darkwarrior Duck's world, he could feel it in his aching bones. He was free, back in his proper attire, and armed.

"Heh," Negaduck chortled at his reflection in the water, "finally took my advice, that idiot."

Negaduck held up the chainsaw, switched it on to see if it worked. It roared to life, and he cackled.

Across town, Darkwarrior stood on his tank, surveying his quiet, peaceful city. Slowly, he smiled.


End file.
